The Treachery of Isengard
by A M4D TE4-P4RTY
Summary: The Uruk-Hai, under the leadership of Uglúk, have orders from Saruman to intercept the fellowship and capture the hobbits. On the way they encounter a group of Mordor Orcs lead by Grishnákh, a group who have already had dealings with the companions for themselves. With Mauhúr waiting as backup and the two Orc groups at war, they must work together to carry out their orders... xx


It was nearing midnight and a pale moon shone down on the stone walls and broad plain of Isengard, it's rays glittering on the waters of the dammed river Isen and the longs lines of pillars and dark flag-stones marching away towards the tower in the centre of the shallow bowl. Deep pits opened between the roads and paths, like great wounds in the ground, filled with fire and noise and ugly voices and the cries of great wolves. Even at that late hour the forges were still blazing and a red glow rose from the deep, it's light illuminating the stones of Orthanc as it towered up into the black night sky.

A way away to the South, the only entrance to the fortress yawned like a cavernous black mouth in the great walls of stone. A guard of four huge Orcs, some of the fighting Uruk-Hai, stood watch, still as stone beneath the pale moon.

Nothing moved as far as the eye could see, only a thick cloud of black smoke drifted and spiralled up from the edges of Fangorn Forest in the East where, just out of sight, teams of smaller Orcs were felling trees and hacking them into logs to be brought back to feed the insatiable furnaces of Isengard. Whatever remained once the trees were felled, stumps, bushes and smaller plants, they torched for sport. On the slight breeze their shouts and cries carried back to the watchers at the gate, accompanied by the crackling of flames and the thud of axes.

The path leading up to the Gate of Isengard ran along next to the original course of the Isen, running up from the South and the Gap of Rohan. For the moment it seemed to the Uruk-Hai to be deserted, a slash of silver-grey in the darkness of the surrounding countryside, but as they watched a shadow could be seen moving swiftly up the road, getting ever closer.

With a crash of weapons the four huge Orcs stepped sideways and into the path, blocking the entrance to their master's stronghold. There they waited silently for the shadow to approach.

As it got nearer the shadow dissolved into many small shapes; nasty, ugly little Goblins running and shuffling towards the gate. From the screeches and calls the Uruk-Hai identified them as Orcs of Moria, although they could not understand the form of orc-speech they used. The smaller Orcs seemed filled with fury and rage and were moving at a quite considerable pace, chattering and howling as the went. Their feet made a soft patter in their thin leather shoes and their weapons, swords, bows and knives, clattered as they ran.

On reaching the gate the whole troop stopped, the foremost Orcs shrieking in disgust and anger to find their way barred. They milled around in front of the Uruk-Hai, hissing and clattering their weapons, their yellow and red eyes bulging horribly, until out of the thronging mass, a particularly hideous Orc stepped forwards and advanced on the gate. It's bulbous yellow eyes gleamed in the dark as it approached, a small, squat, malformed shape, hunched and bent, arms dragging on the floor. It bowed low to the Uruk-Hai guard and said something in it's foul dialect. When nothing happened it became angry and cursed and spat, before switching into Common Speech: "We have information for your master," the Orc snarled, "Take us to him, we wish to speak with him." Behind it the other Orcs capered and clattered their swords.

One of the Uruk-Hai took a step forwards, his boots ringing on the stone of the road. "We don't take orders from mountain-maggots, snaga," he said, his voice echoing off the walls of the tunnel behind him, "I am Mauhúr, Captain of the Uruk-Hai of Isengard. You will give the information to me and I will decide what to tell the Master." The moonlight glinted off the drawn scimitar in his hand.

A howl rose from the assembled Orcs and the yellow-eyed speaker snarled and spat in anger. "Maggots?", he cried waving his sword, "Maggots?" The cry was taken up by the others until the whole horde was gnashing their teeth and raging, brandishing their weapons.

"We will speak to your master," one of the larger Orcs yelled and leapt towards the gate, sword raised in an attempt to cut his way through the Uruk-Hai door-guard. Behind him poured the mass of Moria Orcs screeching in their foul tongue.

The scimitar of Mauhúr flashed, deadly in the darkness and the head of the attacking Orc fell to the ground with a dull, wet splat, his body collapsing in a heap in front of the gate. The other Orcs went silent and stopped in their tracks, fear gleaming in their big, moist eyes as they stared at the blade, now stained dark with blood. "You will give the information to me," Mauhúr growled again.

The hunched spokesman cringed and stepped forwards again, his long arms twisting as he wrung his hands. "We came to report that we have seen a company of nine led by the one they call Gandalf the Grey," he whined pitifully, head ducked as if he feared a sudden blow. "They came through the Mines no longer than a month ago." He let out a squawk and leapt back, away from the Uruk-Hai.

Mauhúr's eyes flashed and the huge Orc turned to one of his companions. "Lugdush, send word to the Master," he ordered. The slightly smaller Uruk set off at a run back towards Orthanc, vanishing out of sight into the tunnel that was the entrance to Isengard, his footsteps echoed loudly long after he was no longer in view.

For a long while nothing happened. The Orcs in front of the gate stood in fearful silence, eyeing the three remaining Uruk-Hai who were once again motionless. From Fangorn the noise and smell of destruction still floated on the wind over to where they stood and very faintly the cries and howls of the inhabitants of Isengard could be heard behind the walls. The moon still shone it's pale, sad light over the scene.

Eventually the sound of iron boots was heard hammering on the stone-flags of the black pathway into Isengard and the Orc Lugdush reappeared, stopping smartly in front of Mauhúr. "The Master commands they are brought to the tower," he said.

The Captain growled something to his followers and they stepped back, clearing the way for the Misty Mountain Orcs. "This had better be good," they heard Mauhúr snarl as they passed him, filing into the tunnel, "I wouldn't like to think what the Master would do to you if you were wasting his time." The smaller Orcs heard the echo of footsteps behind them as two of the Uruk-Hai guards fell in behind them and marched them towards Orthanc.


End file.
